In Dreams Part 1
by astroanna
Summary: Aang dreams of the fateful storm that changed his life...


_The storm rages on as the young boy determinedly keeps moving, continuing his journey upon his faithful flying bison. He hardly notices the lightning, thunder, and deluge of water that ceaselessly pours upon him, for he is intent upon only one thing: leaving his home and his old life as quickly as possible. All that is within the boy's mind at that moment are the fateful words that had changed his life forever:_

_"You are the Avatar, Aang."_

_Suddenly, though, other words float through the young boy's mind, words that he had never heard his mentor say, but were nevertheless spoken in his mentor's voice._

_"Aang? I won't let them take you away from me, I promise…"_

_"Gyatso?" Aang said, but the word was lost amidst a fresh clap of thunder. Before Aang knew what was happening, however, a gust of wind had blown his bison, Appa, violently off course. Screaming, Aang held on as tightly as he could, but he could not hold onto the bison's leash. As Aang was thrown into the water, he realized with a thrill of horror that he had never learned to swim. He had never had the need. Slowly, he sank lower and lower into the frigid water, feeling his breath being stolen away bit by bit and he knew that he did not have long to live. Suddenly though, inexplicably, he felt…different. Something outside himself, something primal, ancient, and very powerful took over and Aang lost all control. After that, he knew no more._

Aang awoke with a start, his breathing fast, his heart pounding within his chest. Once again, that fateful night came to him in his nightmares. It seemed that that moment, that decision, would always haunt him. He looked over to see Katara sleeping, her face a mask of serenity. He then looked over at Sokka, his breathing measured, his hand closed around his knife hilt, as it always was when he was sleeping.

Silently Aang made his way out of the makeshift tent they were in. It was a chill night, but he took no notice. Sitting cross-legged on the ground, Aang looked up at the star-strewn sky. It always calmed his mind to look at the stars. Taking several deep, steadying, breaths, Aang closed his eyes and drew his knees to his chest. Unbidden, the image of his mentor Gyatso formed in his mind's eye. The familiar pang of grief took hold of Aang, and yet the image of his beloved teacher simply seemed to grow sharper, clearer. Suddenly, though no one was there to witness it, the arrows on Aang's forehead and hands began to glow with a pure white light and his face became a mask, devoid of all expression. The avatar had crossed over into the spirit world.

Aang's eyes flew open and he looked around him, bewildered. He quickly realized where he was, though. The tall, graceful spirals and blooming gardens were as vibrant and beautiful as he remembered them. He was in the southern air temple; he was home. He knew that this was not the physical world, however. He knew that in the real world this temple was barren, deserted. For several long moments Aang simply drank in the sights of his home as he remembered them and could not help but smile. The sound of his own name broke his reverie.

"Aang?"

Aang's eyes closed and the familiar pang of grief returned, for he could not help but recognize that voice. Slowly, Aang turned around. Sure enough, there was Gyatso and he, too, was just as Aang remembered him.

"Gyatso," Aang breathed. The old monk's face broke into a wide smile and the kind eyes shone with love.

"It's good to see you again, Aang."

Several moments passed in silence. Aang simply stared at his old mentor, stunned. Then, without a word, Aang embraced Gyatso unashamedly. As they pulled apart, Aang finally spoke.

"I'm so glad to see you again, Gyatso. I don't understand, though. What am I doing here?" Gyatso simply smiled.

"Come, Aang. Sit."

Gyatso led Aang to a nearby bench and they sat down. For some time the two simply watched the other airbenders going about their day, watched the bison grazing.

"I miss this place, Gyatso," Aang finally said.

"I know you do, Aang." Aang simply stared, his eyes downcast. "It's my fault," he said, and it was not a question.

"What is, Aang?"

"The destruction of this place, all my friends, all my people…you. I wasn't here to stop the fire nation."

"Aang," Gyatso said, "none of that was your fault. This is something you need to understand if you are to succeed. You could not have saved the air nomads from being destroyed even if you had been there." Aang was silent for some time.

"I don't know how to be the Avatar, Gyatso." Aang looked up at his old mentor and the wizened eyes gazed back at him. "How am I supposed to do this without you?"

"You'll find a way, Aang," Gyatso said softly. "It's all within you. Being the Avatar is part of who you are. That's something I could never teach you." Aang smiled, and could not help but be comforted by the sound of his teacher's voice. "It's time for you to go back, Aang," Gyatso said.

"What?" Aang exclaimed, taken aback. His time with Gyatso had been much too short. "But I still have so many questions. I don't want to leave."

"I wish you could stay, my young airbender, but your life cannot be put on hold any longer. You don't belong here." Gyatso laid a hand on Aang's shoulder. "I believe in you, Aang." Aang threw his arms around Gyatso once more.

"You were more than just a teacher to me, Gyatso," Aang said softly.

"And you were more than just the Avatar to me."

When Aang opened his eyes again, he was outside the small tent once more, beneath the starry sky. Soundlessly Aang slipped back into the tent and fell into a deep sleep. That night Aang slept with a small smile on his face, and his dreams never disturbed his slumber again.


End file.
